


The Claw

by Venstar



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M, girl we tried, think edgar allen poe, thriller noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: Something was clawing its way through Q's mind.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Kudos: 12
Collections: MI6 Cafe MiniBang





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> for the MI6 Cafe Minibang! Thank you azure7539 for being so patient and for providing some amazing arts!!!!!!!!!!!!

It happened really quite quickly. The capturing of the villain's toy. There was no way that he could ignore the results of harboring this device that brought no joy. It haunted him from the very beginning. What became of the man who had created this device, MI6 knew nothing of. There was nothing left but pieces scattered. Q thought it had been quite fitting. The bane of his agent's existence soon became the bane of his existence. MI6 had lost so many to the capturing of one so dastardly. 

At midnight, there came a knocking upon Q’s door. An unusual event this wasn’t. For at all hours between here and there, he would always be called upon to get an agent out of a foul spot. So there he stood, half awake and rumpled in his midnight best. A too-large shirt and striped pajama bottoms. What news does Tanner bring, rapping at his chamber door? 

Q waved at Tanner, inviting him to step across the threshold and within. “What news does MI6 have but else that I will abhor.?” 

Tanner didn’t speak of what had brought him there at first, only encouraged Q to find something to wear. When Q stood firm, his eyes flat and unmoving, Tanner finally relented and there was nothing else to do but gather his wits and bits of clothing as Tanner let him know that James Bond had disappeared. To MI6 they must go.

“Q.” M’s voice had held a certain sense of doom, foreboding. Something that Q did not like. For what at midnight could there be to find delight.

“Do not tell me any more,” Q whispered into the air, quiet and heavy between them. “Let me do my job and bring him home once more.”

M nodded to Tanner, a silent spectre. “Tanner will see you home. There will be enough for you to do tomorrow.”

Q turned away, his profile sharp and not one who would easily obey. “What can wait till tomorrow can be started today. There is not enough time in the world to sleep as we speak.”

But M was resolute and would not let Q proceed to his lab. Awoken from his bed and informed of the worst news that an agent had been lost, he was further disappointed by being forced out of MI6 and home. Tanner’s face was apologetic, but his hand was firm upon Q’s back. They rode in silence all the way back to Q’s flat. Tanner was thoughtful in giving Q space to process and didn't ask about his health or if he would be okay. Q was not okay. 

He looked out the window and thoughts dark and wide came tripping through his mind on the way home. They flashed past through as fast and blurred as the scenery outside. There was something to be done. To bring an agent home. James. He had lost so many and he was not going to lose this one. Not his. MI6 be damned. James didn’t belong to MI6, he belonged to Q. His conscience reared its head at the thought of betrayal and he glanced at Tanner one more time, hoping beyond hope that what was in his mind was not on his face. Tanner gave him the smallest of smiles and squeezed his shoulder as if there was nothing more to do, but there was.

They all forgot that. They always forgot. Q’s lip quirked up at the side, his only tell, for Q could do more damage on his laptop in his pajamas before his first cup of Earl Grey than MI6 could do in a year in the field. 

Tanner saw him safely inside his flat and left him standing in his entryway alone. His security system recorded the silent emotions that played across his face as he stood for a few minutes not moving. Considering. Considering. Considering it all. He glanced up at the single eye of his hidden security system. No one would ever know. Except for himself and his little eye in the sky. What could go wrong? He would save the day, his agent would be returned and the day would start anew. He nodded his head to himself, his duty clear to himself and his security system. 

In a mad flurry of motion, he discarded his coat and it fell upon the floor. His shoes were kicked off in haphazard motion to lie hither and thither. But he cared nothing for his outer trappings. There was work to be done. He walked with purpose through his flat. Oh, he would get his agent back. 

It would be a short trip. Something MI6 would not track. 

Oh, he would get his agent back.

The clock was ticking. In a few hours, dawn would crack.

Oh, he would get his agent back. 

Clever fingers hunted the villain through a clever hack.

Oh, he would get his agent back.

Q became a vorpal sword who went snicker-snack.

Oh, he would get his agent back.

The time came and went, but Q knew not that anything important had passed, other than his intended target was well in hand. No one would miss them, one less villain in the world. Would there be fallout and anger? Yes. Quite possibly. Q grinned, his mouth full of the sharp teeth that he normally kept hidden beneath his charmingly quiet exterior. If you looked close, you could find them but that was usually too late to notice the danger that you were in. 

With these teeth, he pulled, he pried, he cajoled and he lied. The secrets paid for, the hideout revealed. Until the prize was in his sight. Still, in one piece, everything is still alright. The foreign soil did not bother him, nor did the toil it took on him. One more day to come and go and then he would set everything in motion and hopefully escape without a fight. That wish did not happen 

And like the Jabberwock that had been slain, so Q left the villain dead, a souvenir in hand, he came galloping back, a triumphant man.

For he got his agent back.


	2. Anger

It was unusual to see him this way. His fists clenched and thumping against the outside of his legs. It was quiet, but it was powerful. The minions scattered at the sight. Q had got his agent back, but was he all in one piece? Time would tell. Q spun around on his heel and grabbed his laptop and a black carry case that may or may not have had bloodstains on it. Black was very forgiving. He spoke to no one, not even to R who came running into the room with a gaggle of minions following her. It wasn’t until she jumped on the desk in front of him and held a gun to his face that he halted. He still didn’t look at her. 

“What have you done?” R asked.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Q said. He spared her a scathing glance. Her eyes were narrowed as she studied him through her cat-eye spectacles. Her eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, barely visible for how fine and orange they were. 

“Everything concerns us. We are the Q branch. HE was left for dead but now he’s here and alive.”

Q huffed out a small laugh. “Not today. Today I am simply me and I’ve been ordered to leave. You should all be thankful he’s alive.” Q’s laughter faded and he stepped forward to press his forehead against R’s gun.

The minions let out a collective gasp.

R shuffled backward, a scant space of air between them now. Her black poodle skirt made a rustling sound from the petticoats layered underneath it. “What’s in the bag?” 

“Something that needs taking care of.” He lied smoothly to her. It was in fact something that needed to be taken care of, but by him and not by Q branch. He needed to find somewhere private to take out his last steps of revenge. This was personal. He tightened his grip on the case. 

She pressed the gun back into Q’s temple. The minions made low moaning sounds of cows being brought to slaughter. “Don’t you fucking lie to me. I’ll shoot you myself.”

“I know that.” Q turned his head into the gun and waited for whatever it was that R was going to do and when the gun started to tremble he stepped away, laptop bag and case secure in his grip.

R remained crouched on the desk, her black skirts pooled around her, she looked like a chocolate cupcake topped with a gaudy Halloween bauble. 

“It’s filled with personal business if you must know.” He said as from the lift as the door slid closed on Q branch. 

_ “You tell them lies….” _

_ Q  _ glanced around. “Who said that?”

_ “Heh heh heh.” _

The laughter was terrible and Q shuddered. “Show yourself!”

_ “Ahahahaha...but you’ve already seen me. You’ve even lied for me.” _

Q glanced up at where the security cameras were. “If this is a joke, I’ll hunt you down and you’ll never be able to draw money from any bank ever again.”

_ “I have no need for money, now that I have you…” _

The lift pinged at the ground floor and Q’s senses were filled with bright light, moving bodies, and idle chatter. “Who are you?” Q asked one more time, his eyes still on the cameras. 

“Cindy from accounting.” The short woman with a neat dark ponytail answered him with confusion in her face. “Can I help you?”

“No,” Q said. He stepped out of the elevator shaking his head. “Bluetooth.” He pointed to his ear but the rest of the lift looked at him like he was crazy as the doors closed. Belatedly he realized that he wasn’t wearing an earpiece. Whatever. He was leaving the building to go home and tear apart what was in his case. 

_ “Are you though?” _

“What?” Q spun around.

_ “Are you going to tear me apart? Think of what we could be together. Think of what I could give you.” _

Q turned around again, this time bumping into a few people.

“Hey!”

“Wotcher!”

“You okay?”

“Yes. No. What?” Q asked, glancing around. Making apologies and negating them as he spoke. Why were people staring at him funny? Surely they could hear the person speaking to him. “Did you hear someone just now? Not me, but did you hear that?” He pointed his finger up. The small crowd that he had bumped into slowly shook their heads. 

“Can I help you, sir?” A security guard had approached the little group.

“A voice. There’s a voice. It was talking to me in the lift and just now. Did you hear it?” Surely someone heard it.

The security guard and the small group looked around at each other and shook their heads. 

_ “Do you think they can hear me?”  _

A strange metallic scraping came from the duffle bag Q held tightly. His hands stuttered open and closed in surprise as the bag moved slightly.

_ “Do you want them to hear me? Show them what you have in here, you naughty boy.” _

“I have…” Q’s voice faltered as his throat tightened on him. He cleared his throat with a hoarse cough.

“I can look at the footage for you, sir.” The security guard offered, interrupting Q. He held his hand out towards their little kiosk for checking people in and keeping an eye on the building.

Q tightened his grip on his bags again. He lifted his chin and flashed his security badge. “No need. There isn’t a problem. Just testing out a new communication prototype. I’m trying to see if it’s audible to those around me.”

The security guard and the crowd nodded. It all made sense now. Q nodded back and walked briskly away. People passed him without a second glance, chattering away about their own small lives. Q hunched his shoulders as the sound of laughter and metallic scraping filled his ears.


	3. Bargaining

Q stood upon his threshold. Unsure if he had gone mad or if he had brought madness with him. Sleep. He shook himself. He needed sleep. Whatever it was, whatever he thought he heard, it wasn’t real. He hadn’t slept in 72 hours...maybe...had he? He couldn’t remember. He dropped his bags in his entryway and made his way further into his apartment. His cats soon discovered that he was home and made sounds of greeting. Q knelt to pet them. 

“There, there.” He said. “I’m home. Shhhh, you have plenty of food and water. Come on, I need to lie down.” 

Q rose from his kneeling position and took off for his darkened bedroom, shedding his anorak, jumper, shoes, and trousers as he crossed the threshold to his bedroom. He’d pick all that up later. What he was focused on now, was the calming expanse of his bed. Something he could flop himself down on and pretend like the week hadn’t happened. Like it all hadn’t happened. One last heave and Q was horizontal. He groaned. The cats dispersed themselves about the room. One in his armchair, one on his abandoned clothes pile. There’d be cat hair to brush off in the morning. Q’s eyes slid heavily shut and he was gone, numb to the world around him.

But then the tapping happened. 

Q cracked an eyelid and looked around, his breathing coming in harsh pants. He held his breath...nothing. Perhaps it was the cats. He heard a soft meow. His eyes closed again and he drifted away.

_ Tap _

_ Tap _

_ Tap _

_ “Q….” _

Q’s eyes flew open once more and his breath came to him heavily and labored. What? He lifted his head and reached for his own gun hidden behind his mattress. He rose slowly and knelt on the bed. 

“Show yourself.” He squinted into the darkness and with one hand searched for his glasses. 

With his vision clear, Q got up and walked slowly around. No one answered him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and a line of cold sweat developed between his shoulder blades and upon his lip. He wiped his face sloppily with one hand and completed the sweep of his flat, his feet quiet and sure. Nothing. Maybe his security system caught something. 

Q let out a long and slow exhale as upon reviewing his system, nothing appeared. Not sound or object. Just the black duffle and his laptop from where he set them down earlier.

“Perhaps it is, I’m dreaming.” Q glanced back to his bedroom, but sleep was now the furthest thing from his mind.

  
  


At each search of his flat, Q neither saw or heard anything.

He made a call to MI6 to check on his surroundings.

A worried Tanner stopped by, but there was nothing to be found and nothing to be reassured. Tanner could take Q to a safe house, but would that make the noises stop? The black bag in his foyer shifted and Tanner’s eyes dropped down to it. Q shifted to the side, distracting that worried gentleman. 

_ “Secrets lie within this house, surely you want to tell him…” _

“I think I just need to sleep. I’m seeing ghosts is all. It’s been a hard...week.” Q spoke louder than necessary, drowning out the voice.

Tanner’s eyes moved from the bag to Q, startled by the louder tone. “Yes. It has been on all of us.” And with that, the gentleman withdrew and Q was left alone again.

He turned on his heel and snatched the duffle bag from where he had carelessly tossed it. 

He would bury his secrets and then...and then...and then? Q pried up his floor safe and tossed the bag into it. “There. There you’ll rest and so will I!”

But sleep did not come easy for Q.

The scratching started and the voice came.

Scratch, scratch, scratch...

_ “Come, Q.” _

“What?” Q spun on his bed, eyes wide.

_ “Join me. You know you want to. Think of what we could be together.” _

“Who are you, what do you want?” Q sat up in bed and scooted back.

_ “To be with you. To be you. I can have you, you know. I can wait.” _

There was a loud rustling as if something were moving about the flat.

“You’ll wait a long time!” Q shouted to the room. He rose from his bed.

_ “I can wait. Oh, how I can wait. I’ll hide your secrets. I won’t tell.” _

“I have no secrets!” Q yelled to the room, his breath coming fast. None that he could share.

_ “Oh everyone has their secrets. Especially the one between you and me. I’ll never tell...I’ll never tell. Just...put me on, Q. Put me on. Let me show you what we can be…” _

The voice was now coming from his ceiling...but that couldn’t be. Q ran to his floor vault, spun the lock in haste, and had to do the eye scan twice due to nerves. He flung the cover back and sat back on his heels. The black duffle was torn and the claw...was gone. 

“No,” Q whispered. He sat motionlessly. “Please, no.”

_ “Oh yes…” _

Come morning, his eyes were red and there were faint bruises under his eyes. His hands were shaking and his hair was crusted with dried sweat. He had failed to find the Claw that night and it haunted him...hunted him.

The sun rose and all Q heard was the final voice of the night.

_ “Sleep comes to us all...eventually.” _


	4. Acceptance

It is a difficult thing to bury secrets, yet live in a world where you must have none. Q stared at the people passing by. Did they know? There was something Bond used to quote from M. What was it? We never really know anyone, do we? 

The Claw soon became a fixture in Q’s life. A hideous presence that never let him forget. Never let him sleep. Something even the cats avoided. There wasn’t anything Q could do about it unless he wanted to expose his secret. What he had done...what he had now become. What had he accepted into his bed, aside from the agent who had wormed his way into his life? A terrifying flatmate and an even more terrifying lover. 

“Did you hear that?” Q asked quietly, as he lifted his head, his eyes darted about the darkened room. Please stay hidden, please stay hidden his brain whispered to the dark corners.

_ “I could join you…” _

“Hear what?” Bond asked from where he had his own face pressed to Q’s neck.

“That scratching sound.” Q pulled on Bond’s hair. A distraction for both of them.

Bond’s lips curved into a smile. “Perhaps we’re being too noisy for the neighbors.”

“Maybe.” Q held Bond just a little tighter.

Bond removed his face from where it had been, stuck a little by sweat, it made the sound of wet velcro peeling away. He turned Q’s face towards him, the smile still lingering on his lips. “Well if you’re worried about the neighbors, I’ll give you two choices to distract yourself with.”

“Two?” Q asked, his eyes moving from wandering around the room searching the corners to focus on Bond.

“Yes. I’m a generous lover.” Bond blew along Q’s throat, the air cooling the sweat there and making Q shiver.

Q couldn’t help it, a huff of laughter blew through his own mouth without thought. 

_ “I could join you…” _

“No!” Q blurted out.

“I am!” Bond sounded indignant at being laughed at.

“Oh, you are. You are. What did you have in mind?” Q hastened to cover his mistake.

“Well, I was thinking.” He leaned in to whisper into Q’s ear. “One, I’ll do my damndest to rip a sound from this beautiful throat of yours, but you have to remain silent while I do it, or I stop.” He bit down on Q’s ear lobe.

_ “Let me join…” _

“NO!”

Bond paused and let go of Q’s ear. “Sorry was that too hard?”

Q turned his head to whisper against his lips. “Don’t want you to stop. Hmmm, tempting. What’s my second choice?”

“You make the most obscene noises you can while I do absolutely nothing...” 

Q laughed. “Oh, my. Such choices. Hmmm...I think I’ll take option number two.”

“Why you little shit.”

Q giggled delightedly to himself, which crescendoed into whoops of laughter as Bond pulled him roughly back under the bed. It was difficult to remain silent through the splendid lovemaking, the scratching interspersed during the moments when Q was mostly quiet. Thankfully Bond allowed Q’s harsh panting and that was the ONLY way Q could ignore what Bond couldn’t hear, for even the sound of their noisy lovemaking couldn't totally drown out the Claw. 

Q’s noises of enjoyment became more forced after a while and still Q nothing. Not even when he saw Bond withdraw. He worried, oh how he worried. Walking and walking around his flat, eyes darting this way and that. Where was it, what could he do? He wasn’t crazy...it was only that the Claw wanted out. Perhaps Q should let it out. Maybe he should let it out...just a little to get it to stop for he couldn't stand the scraping that no one else could hear. He stood before his mirror and placed his hand against his reflection. Let me join...let me join...what if he did...let it join?


End file.
